


Boldly Go

by Lys ap Adin (lysapadin)



Series: Misunderstanding 'Verse [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Childbirth, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Occasional Feels, Pregnancy, Schmoooooooop, Weddings, author is indulging herself shamelessly, wacky Galra biological hijinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-09 04:28:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20496923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysapadin/pseuds/Lys%20ap%20Adin
Summary: So, about the "rest of it" as pertains to Keith's Galra genetics...The years really haven't dimmed any of Keith's memories of the more awkward conversations he and Krolia had during the getting-to-know-you period of their time in the quantum abyss. In the end they both agree that they were lucky to get to have that time together, but that doesn't change the fact that parts of that two years were justreallyweird and very awkward. But Krolia had had the benefit of knowing what Earth humans were likely to know and had done a lot to fill in the gaps between that side of his heritage and the Galra side in a way that Kolivan and the other Blades hadn't had the time to do. It was—it was nice to know that some of the things that had always set him apart on Earth were just Galra-standard features, and that some of them were just his own peculiarities. And it was nice to know about the parts of Galra life that didn't involve conquering the known universe—it had given him hope that maybe someday the Galra could focus on other things, could be something better than what Zarkon had made of them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Don't mind me, I'm just being shamelessly self-indulgent with this.

The years really haven't dimmed any of Keith's memories of the more awkward conversations he and Krolia had during the getting-to-know-you period of their time in the quantum abyss. In the end they both agree that they were lucky to get to have that time together, but that doesn't change the fact that parts of that two years were just _really_ weird and very awkward. (Did a guy actually need to know where and how he was conceived? Keith is very sure that he does not, and yet the universe has bestowed that knowledge on him anyway, thanks so very much, universe.) But Krolia had had the benefit of knowing what Earth humans were likely to know and had done a lot to fill in the gaps between that side of his heritage and the Galra side in a way that Kolivan and the other Blades hadn't had the time to do. It was—it was nice to know that some of the things that had always set him apart on Earth were just Galra-standard features, and that some of them were just his own peculiarities. And it was nice to know about the parts of Galra life that didn't involve conquering the known universe—it had given him hope that maybe someday the Galra could focus on other things, could be something better than what Zarkon had made of them.

And then there were the awkward memories that are seared into Keith irrevocably, whether he likes it or not. Mostly he doesn't like it, but manages to repress those memories as much as possible—like the time he first found out about the _flexible_ nature of Galra physiology. _That_ had been a horrifying discussion on every possible level.

Not that Keith followed up on it until after the dust from the war had begun to settle. It wasn't until he'd come to New Daibazaal after the wedding that he actually saw one of the medics that Krolia had mentioned, and it was only because she frog-marched him into the clinic that it happened at all.

Going through puberty the first time had been bad enough. Going through a second puberty was not an experience Keith would have wished on anyone—especially not the interval where he was constantly hungry, angry about everything, and just plain uncomfortable in his own skin because of the way everything he'd _thought_ he'd known about his body was being upended and transformed.

"It was a really weird year for me," he tells Takashi later, which is about the best way he can describe the roller coaster of hormones, physiological curveballs, and the amount of just plain working through the emotional fallout of Takashi's marriage and the loss of Allura and the trauma of the war that he'd had to do. 

Takashi just nods at him kind of blankly, because he's still working through the part of the conversation where Keith had told him about Krolia's assessment of his ability to sire strong, magnificent kits and then followed that up with _And if that ends up being a thing we want, I can carry them_.

In his defense, Keith isn't sure there's a good way to have explained that one—not one that he'd been able to think of, anyway. And if _he_ had to be traumatized by his memory of Krolia's pragmatic summation of Takashi's fitness as a mate, it's only fair to share that with Takashi himself, right?

That's Keith's story and he's sticking to it.

Besides, once Takashi manages to reboot his brain, they move from the telling part of things to the showing part, which is fun for all parties concerned: Keith already knows what kinds of heights he can reach with a partner, and Takashi is delighted to explore Keith's body and figure these out firsthand.

The actual _question_ of kids is one they leave alone, undiscussed and unanswered, for a good long time after that. They've got the Atlas and a five-year mission from the Coalition to explore the uncharted-by-them, unknown-to-them portion of the galaxy that lies in the regions beyond Earth, which is all the excitement anyone could want and then some. Plus they have each other, finally. The adventure of getting to figure out how he and Takashi work together as partners on every level is enough that Keith knows he could spend the rest of his life on that and die happy and fulfilled.

And yet the question lingers at the back of his mind, a question mark with the flavor of _what if?_ that surfaces at odd intervals, prompted by the fluctuation of his hormones or by the sight of someone holding their child. Sometimes Keith wonders _what if_ when he looks at Takashi, though it's never for very long and he usually moves on to a different thought soon after. The life he and Takashi have made with each other is more than enough, more than he'd ever have imagined for himself once upon a time. There's not much point in asking for more when he's already as fucking lucky as he is.

And then, when they're coming up on the end of the five-year mission, Takashi clears his throat one night and says, "Can I ask you something?"

It's late and Keith is getting close to calling it a night—he's already stripped down to the sweats and tank top he sleeps in—so he goes ahead and puts his tablet aside to give Takashi his full attention. "Yeah, what?"

Takashi looks uncharacteristically uncertain; he's fidgeting his organic fingers along the hem of his t-shirt. It takes Keith saying his name to prompt him into speaking. "Do you ever think about kids?"

The urge to ask whether Takashi means the abstract concept of children or something else nudges at Keith, but he pushes it aside as the sleepy edge of his thoughts dissipates, leaving him wide-awake again. "Sometimes, yeah. Do you?"

"Yeah, sometimes." Takashi switches to drumming his fingers against his knee. "It didn't used to be something I thought about, you know? What with one thing and another."

_One thing and another_ covers a lot of territory, but then, Keith was there for a lot of it, so he just nods. "Yeah. But… you're thinking about it now?"

"I guess so, yeah. The mission is almost up, and I figure it'll be a year or more before the Coalition makes up their minds what to do with everything we're bringing back, let alone how long it might take them to finish upgrading Atlas if they decide to send us back out." Takashi glances at Keith, then back down at his fingers and the arrhythmic pattern he's tapping against his knee. "So… a couple years of downtime seems like a good opportunity to, I dunno, look at the options, if we want to raise kids." Takashi finally looks at him directly. "And that's something I think I'd like to do, with you, if it's something you want, too."

Keith pulls his knees up and wraps his arms around them, turning it over. Takashi's right, they have an astonishing amount of data, of specimens, of star charts, of lists of possible alien sentients to reach out to. It's going to take a while for the Coalition to assess all of that and a while to modify Atlas with all the upgrades and improvements Pidge and Hunk keep telling them about… and the Coalition has other ships now, even though he doesn't know of any with Atlas' unique capabilities. So, yeah, they really are looking at a couple years, unless the Coalition has an interim plan for them. Even so, they're due for leave. It's as good an opportunity as they're likely to get.

Which leaves him with only one question. "Last I heard from a doctor, I'll probably need some interventions to get pregnant and carry to term, so are you going to be okay staying on New Daibazaal for the duration? Fair warning, I'm pretty sure Krolia will lose her mind a little bit and that she'll end up taking Kolivan and the Blades down with her if she does."

By the time he gets to that point, Takashi is grinning broadly. He rises from his chair and comes to Keith, stooping to take his face in his hands and kiss him. "God, I love you."

Keith tips his head back to smile up at him. "So that's a yes on New Daibazaal? Seriously, I'm not kidding about Krolia." She's so level-headed most of the time that he wouldn't have thought she could be that way, but then, most of the time, he's not under medical care, either. Krolia becomes an entirely different person when her only living clan member's health is in question.

Takashi rests his forehead against Keith's, still beaming. "I'm willing to put up with it if you are."

"So that's our plans for after the mission sorted out, I guess. I'll let her know to look around for a place for us next time we talk."

"Will you be telling her why?"

"Nah. We can let it be a surprise." Keith shrugs. "Besides, like I said, medical support. I _can_ carry, technically, but that doesn't mean it's guaranteed. I don't want to get her hopes up before there's a reason to, you know?"

Takashi lets go of him and sits on the edge of their bed, suddenly serious. "If this is going to be risky, then there are other ways to do this—we could adopt, or find a surrogate—"

Keith leans forward and catches his hand, gripping it and rubbing his thumb over the knuckles. "Hey. It's too early for _you_ to start worrying, too. When I was finding out about all this, I paid more attention to some things than others. Having kids—_carrying kids_—wasn't something I figured was in the cards, so most of that stuff didn't stick in my head. Until we actually talk to the experts, we don't know anything, really. So don't go ruling anything out yet."

Takashi laughs then, rueful. "Okay, point taken. But I mean it—if it turns out to be too much of a risk—"

"—then we'll burn that bridge when we come to it," Keith says firmly.

Takashi cracks up. "I know you know that's not how that saying goes."

"It is if you're part Galra."

"You're ridiculous."

"I know." Keith tugs on Takashi's hand until he takes the hint and leans forward. Keith does the same himself and Takashi meets him for a kiss that's slow and sweet. It's late and they have meetings in the morning, but… "You know, if you're gonna get me pregnant, maybe we ought to practice for it so we're ready to go when the time comes."

"Do you think so?" Takashi lifts his eyebrows. "You don't think we've practiced enough in the past few years?" Despite the question, his voice has dropped a bit and his eyes are going darker behind his glasses.

"Can you ever have too much practice?" Keith steals another kiss from him, this one open and definitely not sweet.

"When you put it like that…" Takashi moves with the swiftness that's always a little shocking in someone with such a large, solid build. Before Keith quite realizes it, Takashi has seized his hips and dragged him down the bed and is kneeling over him, looking pleased with himself. "They do say practice makes perfect."

Keith reaches up to pluck the reading glasses off his nose and sets them aside with his tablet. "You are pretty perfect, it's true." He grins at the way the compliment makes Takashi duck his head and pulls him down, meeting him with another kiss and a hum of satisfaction as Takashi's bulk presses him into the mattress.

Takashi shifts against him, settling against him more comfortably as he threads his fingers into Keith's hair, cupping his head as they trade unhurried kisses back and forth. Keith spreads his knees to make room for Takashi to settle between his thighs and smooths his hands up and down Takashi's back, over his shoulders and hips and ass, all familiar, beloved territory by now. Takashi rumbles to him and finds the hem of Keith's tank top so he can push it up, spreading cool metal fingers against Keith's skin and stroking them up his side to find a nipple and tease it. The touch puts a shiver of heat through him, the same way Takashi's weight bearing down on his cock does.

It's late and they should be getting ready for bed instead of this, or should at least try to make this quick, but they're not doing either. Takashi kisses him like they have all night and no commitments to meet in the morning, and Keith isn't in any mood to rush, either, is perfectly content to let the heat between them build at a leisurely pace, to feel himself getting hard and feel Takashi doing the same whenever he hitches his hips against Keith's, no urgency in it at all.

It's good, it's damn near perfect, but it could be improved nonetheless. Keith finds the collar of Takashi's t-shirt and tugs on it until he's got his attention. "Off."

"You first," Takashi shoots back, smiling, before finishing the job of pushing Keith's tank up and pulling it off him. He sits up to yank his own shirt off and toss it aside, which is a sight Keith is never going to get tired of, and then curves his hands around Keith's hips, head canted in a silent query.

Keith lifts his hips by way of reply.

Another thing he isn't going to get tired of is the way Takashi undresses him. He pulls Keith's sweatpants down his legs, objectively not an intrinsically erotic act, but the way he looks at Keith as he does it, awed by each centimeter of skin that he bares, transforms it into one. He pushes Keith's knees up to get the sweats off him and takes the opportunity to press his lips to the inside of Keith's ankle, the inside of his knee. The tenderness of it steals Keith's breath away. 

He stretches a hand out to Takashi, wanting him closer, wanting the warmth and weight of him again, this time with his skin against Takashi's, but Takashi doesn't take the invitation. Instead he trails his mouth up the inside of Keith's thigh, planting a line of kisses from his knee to the crease of his hip, with a goal that couldn't be clearer.

Keith groans and lets his thighs splay open for Takashi, anticipation singing through him as Takashi hooks Keith's knees over his shoulders and settles into place. He smiles up at Keith, soft, and bends to close his mouth around one of his balls as he runs his thumb from the base of his cock to the head of it. The touch is light, barely perceptible against the heat of Takashi's mouth, the soft suction as he tongues sensitive skin, but that doesn't mean it's not amazing. It is. Keith groans again, Takashi's name, gripping the blankets as pleasure unfurls at the touch.

Takashi rubs his thumb back and forth over the head of his cock, passing it through the slickness beading in the slit and circling the spot just under the crown that's most sensitive. Keith shudders with the sensation, slow and intense, as Takashi mouths his balls gently, sucking slowly. "Takashi—_Takashi_—"

Takashi increases the pressure of his thumb, dragging it back and forth relentlessly as Keith begins to writhe under the touch. Takashi knows perfectly well how overwhelming it is when he touches Keith like that, how quickly it can take him apart. That, it seems is exactly what he wants to do, because he doesn't let up, keeps sliding his thumb back and forth steadily until Keith falls apart. He tries to buck as he comes, pleasure racing over him, but Takashi keeps him pinned with one hand on his hip, such easy, thoughtless strength in the way he does it that Keith groans with the pulse of heat it puts through him, twisting his hands in the blankets as Takashi keeps on stroking his thumb back and forth, not letting him come down from the edge, not letting him do anything but take the way pleasure is shaking him.

Keith feels the moment it tips him over the edge in the way his nails punch through the blankets in his grip and in how the quality of the light changes—parts of the spectrum fading out and others becoming more prominent. Everything becomes _more_ in that moment—he can smell Takashi, the tang of his sweat and the traces of soap from his shower and the heady musk of his arousal, can smell their combined scent in the bedding beneath him. 

Takashi presses his mouth to the inside of Keith's thigh. "There you are." He shifts his hands, sliding them under Keith's hips and lifting him. Keith unclenches his fists from the blankets and reaches down to help him by gripping the backs of his thighs and pulling them up, spreading himself open for Takashi, who hums in appreciation. "God, sweetheart, look at you." He rubs his thumb over the opening tucked behind Keith's balls. "You're already getting wet for me."

Keith knows that, of course—he can feel it, can smell it on himself—but it's not about that. It's about the open delight in Takashi's voice and the way Takashi looks at him, the way Takashi is so ready to embrace this part of him, too. "That's just the kind of effect you have on me."

Takashi smiles at him, just a hint of wicked promise to it. "Oh, is that so?" He lifts Keith, holding him steady, and bends his head to bury his face between Keith's thighs again.

Keith groans at the first drag of Takashi's tongue against him, sparks flying up his spine. The nerve endings of this part of him are configured a little differently than they are for the rest of his genitals, courtesy of his hybrid genetics, exquisitely sensitive to pressure rather than friction. The way it feels when Takashi strokes the flat of his tongue against him is good, but when he presses the point of it _into_ him, it's fantastic. Keith shouts at the bolt of pleasure that shoots through him as Takashi works his tongue against his entrance, pressing it into him and swirling it over his entrance, stimulating the muscles. The sensation ripples through him, building like an ache as Takashi hums to him, lapping at him steadily as each throb of arousal has Keith getting wetter and wetter. He plunges his tongue into Keith, curling it inside of him as he drags it back out, does it again and again as Keith pants, until the balance shifts—

"Takashi," Keith gasps, trembling as aching _need_ seizes him, obliterating everything else with how badly he needs to have something more inside him. "Takashi, please, _now_—"

This, they've found, is not a thing where he can be teased for any length of time at all. Takashi responds instantly, lifting his head and easing Keith's hips down to the bed. "I've got you, don't worry," he says as Keith moans with how urgently _empty_ he feels. "Shh, sweetheart—" He sinks two fingers into Keith, the temporary solution to meeting that need, and shoves his own sweatpants down his hips as Keith gropes for the lube stashed under the pillows and presses it into his hand. He rocks against Takashi's fingers, the fullness of them not the _right_ kind of fullness, as Takashi gets the tube open with one hand and pours a generous amount over his cock.

Keith keens when Takashi pulls out of him, the ache redoubling at the absence, but then Takashi is there over him, heavy and warm as he lifts Keith, angling his hips just so, and buries himself inside Keith in one smooth stroke, God, _yes_, that's perfect, Takashi thick and sleek inside him. Keith groans and wraps his legs around Takashi's hips, as if digging his heels into Takashi's ass could possibly get him any deeper than he already is. "_Jesus_, Takashi, please," he breathes as Takashi leans over him, grinding against him. "_Please_."

Takashi leaves his cybernetic hand spread against the small of his back, supporting him, and slides the other up his spine to cradle the back of his head. "Yeah, sweetheart, I have you, I've got you." He rolls his hips against Keith, groaning with him at the ripple of sensation, voice gone deep and rough with pleasure. "God, Keith… God, you're so good…"

Keith tightens his legs around Takashi and curls himself up to hook his arms around Takashi's shoulders, operating on core strength and sheer cussedness. "Fuck me," he growls to him, right before dragging Takashi into a fierce kiss.

Takashi laughs against his mouth and obeys, spilling Keith back down against the blankets to hitch his hips up at a better angle. When he drives into Keith again, it's _hard_, almost brutal, and exactly what Keith needs from him.

Raw-edged pleasure slams up his spine, tearing a cry out of his throat with how fierce it is. "Yes!" He twists his hands in the blankets again, punching his nails right through the cloth as Takashi pounds into him, holding him so that his cock hits Keith at exactly the right angle to make him see stars. Breathless endearments and praise tumble from his lips as he does, wrapping around Keith like a warm blanket—knowing that Takashi loves him is different from knowing how beautiful thinks he is, how perfect, how adored he is.

He's close to the edge, can feel it in the way tension coils tight at the base of his spine, and knows Takashi is too by the depth of his groans and the urgency in how he's moving inside him. Keith unclenches a hand and closes it around his cock, fisting himself roughly, and that's all it takes. The orgasm uncoils through him like the recoil of a gun, aching and fierce, tearing another cry out of him as his cock pulses over his fingers and his body works around Takashi's cock, gripping it, trying to lock him in place.

Takashi groans, hips stuttering as that pulls him over the edge too. He arches over Keith, every muscle corded taut as his cock pulses inside him and Keith's muscles work him, coaxing every last drop out of him. He catches himself over Keith, chest heaving as he pants for breath, hair clinging to his temples and expression stunned. "Jesus, Keith…"

Keith reaches up to him to card his nails through Takashi's hair, smoothing it back, entire body feeling like it's glowing as the purr begins to vibrate in his chest. "Mm." 

Takashi laughs, breathless, smiling down at him. "Guess I don't need to ask if it was good for you."

"It's always good with you." It should go without saying, but Keith likes the way Takashi blushes for compliments like that. "Come here." He's slipping back from the edge, his nails returning to their normal bluntness and the edges of his senses beginning to dull, and he wants to feel Takashi's skin against his before it all ebbs away.

"Ugh, we're a mess." Takashi settles against him anyway and wraps his arms around Keith. He kisses the corner of Keith's mouth. "Hi."

Keith snorts at that. "Dork." He kisses Takashi properly, lacing his hands together over Takashi's spine in case he gets any bright ideas about getting out of bed. 

"Yes, but I'm your dork." Takashi presses another kiss to the tip of his nose.

"There is that," Keith concedes, then yawns hard enough to make his ears pop.

"Now why did you have to do that?" Takashi says, yawning halfway through the question. He glances away from Keith and makes a face. "Oh, geez, do you know what time it is?"

Keith covers Takashi's mouth. "Don't tell me, that'll just make it worse." He gathers himself and rolls Takashi off him before fishing up a corner of the blanket to wipe up the worst of the mess. Then he settles against Takashi and makes himself comfortable again. 

"Guess we ought to get used to short sleep, huh?" Takashi says, settling Keith closer and pulling the blanket over him as the lights dim. 

Keith smiles into the darkness and presses his mouth against Takashi's shoulder. "Yeah, we probably should."

Takashi squeezes him a little tighter at that and Keith falls asleep smiling.


	2. Chapter 2

They may be on the return journey, a couple weeks out from the nearest wormhole point, but that doesn't mean they're idle. All the usual tasks of maintaining the Atlas' upkeep still need doing and of course they have to download the data from the probes they'd scattered behind them on the outbound journey, tidying up as they go along. Keith doesn't do the science stuff himself—not his thing, really, besides the baseline curiosity of an explorer—but he has plenty to do keeping the security operations running smoothing and making sure Takashi is looking after himself.

Still. He finds plenty of time to think about the decision they've made, to access the medical database the Atlas' infirmary staff maintain and do some reading about the stuff he hadn't paid a lot of attention to the first time round. It's comprehensive stuff and takes a fair bit of work to decipher—he's a pilot, damn it, not a doctor, and that thought makes him smile into his tablet more than once—but it's reassuring. Or promising, maybe, since holy _fuck_ there are a lot of ways pregnancy can fuck a person up, more than he'd ever thought there could be. But—promising. Provided he can figure out a way to shift to his more Galra form and stay that way, they've got decent odds of him conceiving and carrying to term. His mom hadn't been joking at all when she'd told him that the Galra had adapted for cross-species reproduction. 

It sparks other thoughts as well, about logistics and the longer term. 

He means to bring it up over dinner, but dinner doesn't happen as such. Keith would blame that fact solely on Takashi, who is wandering around their quarters without a shirt on when Keith palms open the door, but in justice he has to admit that he's the one who forgets about dinner entirely. There are some things he's just not strong enough to resist, and the way Takashi's sweatpants hang low enough on his hips to reveal the dimples on either side of his spine and the first dusting of pale hair below his navel is one of those things.

Takashi is one hundred percent aware of that fact, of course, so the fact that Keith forgets about eating in favor of prowling away from the door is his fault, too. Not that he objects at all when Keith plants a hand on his chest and pushes him out of the living area and into the bedroom. They're both complicit, basically, and Keith wouldn't have it any other way.

Later, when he's draped across Takashi and they've both caught their breaths, Keith recalls his initial plans for the evening and figures that this will work too. "Hey, Takashi…?"

"Mm?" Takashi runs his hand up Keith's spine and curves it over the back of his neck, rubbing it idly. 

Keith doesn't figure there's a lot of point in dancing around the topic. "Do you ever think about getting married again?"

Takashi does a full-body twitch that's almost enough to jar Keith right off him. "Um."

Keith lets him have his moment of surprise, resting his cheek against Takashi's chest and listening to the renewed drumbeat of his heart. It's not an easy question, he knows that—Takashi has a lot of complicated feelings about his marriage to Curtis and the way it all ended. He's told Keith about some of them and Keith has sussed out some of the others, though he figures there are some things he's never going to completely understand.

He can't bring himself to be surprised when Takashi finally counters the question with one of his own. "Why do you ask?"

Keith raises his head off Takashi's chest to look at him. Takashi is trying to do the thing where he keeps his expression calm and neutral, even though he really ought to know better than to try that on Keith, who can read the faint tightness around his eyes and mouth just fine. "Because I'd like to be married to you, that's why." Sure, there are plenty of practical, pragmatic reasons why it would be a good idea, particularly if they're going to try for kids one way or another, but honestly, that's the driving force.

"Oh." It's more of an exhalation than anything else; Takashi's expression slackens just a bit, eyes a little wider and a hint of a smile teasing the corners of his mouth. "Guess that makes sense."

"Mm." He can't really manage a good shrug like this, so Keith props his chin on a hand and studies Takashi. "So. Do you ever think about it?"

Takashi doesn't answer right away, but he does stroke his fingers through the hair that falls loose around Keith's face, smoothing it back and tucking it behind his ears while he thinks the question over. "You know," he says after a bit, "I can remember when you'd have said something like _I'd like to be married to you_ to me and then followed it up with a bunch of stuff about how it's okay if I don't want to and it was just an idea you'd had."

"Yeah, well." This really does call for a shrug, so Keith does his best. "Guess I finally realized that it was all still real, even if you and I end up wanting different things."

Takashi says his name, quiet and sweet, smiling at him. "I'm glad to hear that."

"Yeah, yeah, personal growth, it's a thing, I guess." Keith tips his head to the side, tapping his fingers against his chin. "So are you avoiding the question because the thought never even crossed your mind or because you're trying to figure out a way to say you don't want to do the marriage thing again or what?"

Takashi's chest rises and falls beneath him on a deep breath. "Mostly the _what_," he says. "I… hadn't really thought about it. I didn't think marriage was a thing you were interested in, to be honest."

"Maybe it wasn't, not always. I know it didn't seem like a thing that was ever going to happen to me, anyway." He doesn't need to go into all the reasons for that, since Takashi either knows them already or could puzzle them out if he wanted to. "But things change."

"Yeah. Things do change." Takashi's gaze goes unfocused as he things; whatever it is he's seeing, it isn't the bulkhead above their bed. Keith lays his head back down and lets him get on with it, deliberately forcing his own thoughts away from trying to figure out what Takashi will do or say next. Instead he focuses on the moment: Takashi's skin warm against his cheek, Takashi's heartbeat returned to its normal steady rhythm, the warmth of Takashi's hand resting against his shoulder and the smell of sex still hanging in the air. These things are his, theirs, and will continue to be no matter what comes of this discussion in the short or long term. That's what really matters in the end.

Eventually Takashi sighs, deep, and speaks again. "So, marriage. Not gonna lie, the idea freaks me out some, but I'm pretty sure that's just… I don't know, leftover head stuff from how things with Curtis went." His voice drops a little. "And… Adam, before that." Keith doesn't say anything, but he slides a hand down Takashi's arm and winds his fingers with the cool plastic ones of Takashi's prosthetic. "I think I got it in my head that I was bad at—I don't know, committed relationships?" He snorts. "Which is pretty ridiculous when you and I have been together now longer than I was with both of them put together, and we're planning on having kids, and all that. But, like I said. I hadn't thought about it."

"And now that you have…?"

"And now that I've thought about it…" Takashi insinuates his fingers under Keith's cheek, nudging him into raising his head again. He's smiling, a touch rueful. "You know that I can count the number of things you've outright asked of me on my fingers and have fingers left over? And that's including the near-death experiences. But I'd marry you even if I'd lost count of all the things you've ever asked me to do for you, because you're it for me and everyone ought to get to know it."

Keith hasn't actually been holding his breath, but it sort of feels like he has been and has let it out all at once. "I ask you for things all the time."

Takashi just laughs. "_Harder, damn it_ and _pass the salt_ don't count and you know it."

"I ask for other things, too."

He realizes he might be protesting too much about the same time Takashi raises his eyebrows and says, "Name something, then. Bonus points if there isn't mortal peril involved."

"I…" Yeah, okay, he might be in a little bit of trouble. "Sparring. I ask you to spar with me all the time. And Daibazaal, I asked you to move to Daibazaal."

They're stretches; he knows it even as he's naming them, even before Takashi smiles, fond and wry. "Babe, sparring with you is the highlight of my day, and we're moving to New Daibazaal because we're going to try for kids." He rubs his thumb along Keith's cheekbone. "I'm not complaining, by the way. You're pretty self-sufficient and that's fine, but it's nice to be able to oblige you by doing something that isn't not-dying, you know? Before Keith can reply, he slides his thumb over to press against Keith's lips. "And I love you a ridiculous amount, so I can't wait to marry you and make it official."

Keith makes a face at him, though he's sure Takashi sees right through it. "Just remember that you like obliging me when I'm knocked up and demanding rare alien delicacies from the other side of the galaxy at two in the morning." That's a thing pregnant people do, right? He feels like he's heard stories and jokes about it, anyway.

"Of course I will." Takashi lifts his head from the pillow and kisses him until Keith feels much less inclined to be annoyed by the gentle teasing. "In the meantime, if you'll let me up, I'll heat up dinner and bring it in for you, how's that sound?"

"Acceptable." Keith rolls off him so Takashi can get out of bed. He stretches out against the sheets and makes himself comfortable while Takashi gets up and ducks into the bathroom to tidy up. Self-sufficient, huh? Well, that's not wrong—the habits of his childhood and adolescence are worn pretty deep. But he's not that kid anymore and he doesn't have to be wary of asking for too much, either… even if he doesn't actually know what more he could possibly want out of his life than the abundance he already possesses.

Whatever. He'll keep it in mind, going forward.


	3. Chapter 3

There are certainly benefits to being an intergalactic hero with a parent who is highly placed in the government of New Daibazaal. Krolia is delighted to hear that he and Takashi are planning to establish a home on New Daibazaal after the Atlas' mission ends. Keith doesn't know whether she looks into prospective homes herself or just makes it known that he and Takashi are going to be looking, but within days of the initial call, he and Takashi have half a dozen prospective new dwellings to review. By the time they reach Coalition headquarters at Olkarion, they have a lease signed and arrangements for furnishings in place.

They probably should have expected the house-warming party that's waiting for them when they finally touch down on New Daibazaal, too, since it's been five years since they've seen the other paladins in person, but it catches Keith completely off guard when Krolia escorts them from the space port to the quiet enclave they'd settled on and they open the door to find the party waiting for them. Takashi might not be surprised; he seems delighted to see everyone on the other side of their door, but not _surprised_.

Keith resolves to get him to 'fess up later, in case he was in on the planning, but for the short term he's too busy exchanging greetings and hugs and stuffing his face with Hunk's cooking to worry about it.

The house they'd selected is probably the largest place Keith has ever lived (that isn't a spaceship or paramilitary installation). It's more Terran in design than some of the traditional Galra-style dwellings (which skew more communal than not) but it's still more than two men with simple tastes actually need.

"You've got plenty of room for guests," Lance says after the party has settled down in to sitting around and catching up. "You want us to ship you a couple of spare kids? I can give you two for the price of one."

Keith glances at Takashi while Allura smacks Lance's shoulder, laughing, but they've talked about this, and hey, it's a good opening. "Nah, that's okay. We're gonna try for our own after the wedding."

He times it perfectly; the announcement falls right into a little lull in the general conversation and Lance is right in the middle of taking a drink. He spews beer in meter-long radius (Pidge shrieks as she gets doused) and Hunk drops a tray of treats all over the floor. Allura claps her hands in delight while Lance sputters and fends off Pidge's attempts to strangle him, and everyone breaks out into questions and demands for Keith to repeat what he's just said and explain whether it's a joke and what does he mean about trying for kids when they're both guys.

Neither Krolia nor Kolivan contributes to the chaos, but that's not a surprise. Both look pleased, however, and when Keith catches her eye, Krolia dips her chin and smiles at him. 

All in all, Keith is gonna call that a successful announcement. 

"So am I going to be baking wedding cake for another thousand sentients?" Hunk asks after the immediate hubbub dies down. "Because if I am I'm gonna need you guys to pick a date, like, last year so I can clear the deck for this."

"That's really not necessary, Hunk, but thank you," Takashi says. "We'd rather keep this small and quiet. Just friends and family, really."

Hunk blows out a breath, clearly relieved. "Oh thank God. I had no idea how I was gonna manage to cater another wedding that size without a couple years of lead time."

Pidge leaves off mopping up the splatter damage and glaring at Lance. "Delegation is a thing, you know."

She couldn't have scandalized Hunk more if she'd tried with both hands. "And let anyone _else_ cater one of your guys' weddings? No way, not gonna happen."

"You really don't have to do that," Keith says—or rather, tries to say. 

Hunk doesn't let him finish by dint of reaching over and covering Keith's mouth with his hand. "Have you decided on a date yet? Any flavor preferences for the cake? Are you thinking a meal or more of a cocktail party type of vibe for the reception? Oh! And what kind of color scheme are you guys thinking?"

Takashi looks a bit dazed by the barrage of questions; as far as Keith recalls, he wasn't all that deeply involved with the prep for his first wedding. Too many duties at the Garrison, what with the transition from the wartime footing of the Atlas to winding up his career and all. "Uh…"

Keith pries Hunk's fingers off his face. "We'll get back to you on that." A thought occurs to him then and he points at Lance. "And you. No bachelor parties."

Lance pulls an exaggerated pout at him. "You just live to suck all the joy out of my life, don't you?"

"Sure do." Keith considers it. "Unless Takashi wants one, but that's between you and him."

"Thanks for throwing me under that bus, buddy," Takashi tells him as Lance turns a speculative look his way.

"Everything is fair in love and war," Keith replies, grinning at him.

Pidge fakes gagging. "How do you two just keep getting grosser? I thought you'd be past this by now."

"Consider who you're talking about," Matt tells her, to which Pidge wrinkles her nose and concedes, "Point."

Later, much later, since the party doesn't break up until well past midnight local time, Takashi wraps his arm around Keith, who cuddles a little closer in their new bed (not yet broken in, as it were, because it's late, they have houseguests, and they're honestly too tired to do anything more energetic than a little lazy making out). "Lots of questions about wedding planning," he murmurs into Keith's hair.

"Mm, I guess?" The conversation _had_ sort of kept circling back to that for reasons that Keith could probably itemize had he cared to dwell on them. "Figure they kind of expect this to be like your wedding to Curtis."

The texture of Takashi's silence is a telling thing—confusion plus the normal conflicted reaction he has to any mention of his first wedding. "But why?"

"It was a big deal, lots of moving parts to plan, and I had to keep Lance from going completely overboard." Keith yawns halfway through that explanation. "They're probably expecting more of the same this time? Even though we told them we want to keep it small."

Takashi—Takashi pulls him closer, tightening his arm around Keith. "Jesus. I really did lay that on you, didn't I?" There's enough emotion in his voice to pull Keith back from the edge of sleep. "Jesus Christ, Keith, why did you let me do that to you?"

Keith wakes the rest of the way up and rolls over. Takashi looks stricken. "I asked myself that a lot at the time and never did come up with a good answer," he says, matter-of-fact. "I think some of it was masochism and some of it was just being determined to be a part of your life, no matter what it took. And I think some of it was just figuring out whether I _could_ still be a part of your life and be okay with that, which, yeah, it turned out I could." Takashi doesn't look any less stricken by the end of the explanation, so Keith rubs his thumb over the groove between his eyebrows, trying to smooth it out. "Don't look like that. It was my choice to say yes."

"But it was my choice to ask," Takashi whispers. "My shitty choice. Jesus, Keith, I'm sorry."

Huh. Before this moment, he would have said he'd forgiven and forgotten a long time ago, but the apology unknots something inside him. He has to breathe carefully for a moment, trying to sort through the surge of emotion, the old aching question _why not me_ and its siblings _how could he ask this of me_ and _how can he not see what this is doing to me_. "I—thank you. For that." His voice creaks in his throat. "It was—hard. Worth it to me in the end, but—hard."

The next thing he knows, Takashi is wrapped around him, and he has his head tucked under Takashi's chin, face pressed into the warm skin of his throat, full of the smell of home. "You never said anything to me," Takashi says against his hair. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"You'd made it pretty clear that we weren't going to talk about you and me—not like that—and then I was on New Daibazaal and dealing with a lot of stuff." So much _stuff_, grief and second puberty and having survived an intergalactic war. What was unrequited love except one more issue to add to the pile? "I guess I'd worked through it by the time we started talking again. Never really occurred to me to bring it up." He'd just been too glad that the span of stilted conversations once or twice a year had come to an end, that Takashi was reaching out to the rest of them more often, was warming up again, was willing to be friends again. He hadn't put that together with the breakdown of Takashi's marriage until a lot later. 

Takashi's exhale is shaky against the top of his head, which seems fair when Keith feels about the same. "Jesus. I don't know what I could possibly have done to deserve you."

"You didn't have to do anything. You just were."

Takashi moves, finding his chin in the darkness and tipping it up for a kiss that Keith is more than willing to provide. 

If his lips taste a bit of saline, well, so do Keith's, and neither of them feels the need to mention it.


	4. Chapter 4

Hunk and Lance make a determined effort between them, they really do, but Keith exhausted any opinions he might have had on weddings back when he was planning Takashi's first. Insofar as Takashi has feelings on the matter, he wants a smaller wedding, the less like the extravaganza of his first wedding the better. 

"You're ruining all the fun," Lance complains when they veto another suggestion (this time a choir of Arusians singing their traditional wedding hymns, which, just, no). "Come on, guys, we just want to give you the kind of wedding you deserve."

Keith rolls his eyes at him. "Then you should maybe give us the wedding we _want_."

On the other half of the comm screen, Hunk flat-out _pouts_. "But we're so happy for you guys! This has been such a long time coming!"

"Yeah, your epic star-crossed love deserves a giant celebration," Lance chimes in.

"Our _what_?" Keith seriously didn't hear that, only he probably did: Takashi has covered his face with his hands. "You've got to be kidding me."

They are, and they aren't—Lance still lives to give Keith shit (which, to be fair, Keith lives to return in full measure), but he and Hunk really are pretty set on making sure the wedding ends up being perfect, too. It's just that their idea of what constitutes perfect is about a million miles away from Keith's idea of perfect.

"Maybe we should have eloped," he says idly once the call is over, Hunk and Lance quelled until the next wild idea occurs to them.

Takashi shakes his head. "No thanks. Your mom would kill us." He considers that. "Well, me, anyway. You she'd just maim."

"Maybe if we enlisted her to help us…?" Keith wonders.

"Then the rest of the paladins would murder us," Takashi says, which—yeah, Lance would try, for sure.

Keith lets go of the idea of eloping with a shrug. "Too late now, I guess."

"Mm." Takashi sets the tablet on the table and tucks his face into the curve of Keith's throat. "I'd ask you if you're sure you don't want anything fancy, but I've known you for too long."

Keith tips his head to the side, humming at the feel of Takashi's lips against his skin. "Really not my style, yeah." He bites his lip. "If there's anything _you_ want, though—" Takashi really hasn't put forward a lot of preferences, has said he's happy with whatever makes Keith happy, but Keith wonders, sometimes.

"Just you," Takashi tells him. "That's all I want. You and me and our friends to watch us make our promises."

"Well, if you do decide there's something, speak up."

Takashi just raises his head and smiles. "That's more than enough for me, but okay, I will."

He doesn't, as it happens, so in the end their wedding is very quiet, very simple, and very small. Keith doesn't know what strings have been pulled, but somehow they've managed to keep their plans from leaking to the press—but then, having a pair of veteran spies helping with the planning surely helps with the opsec. He's glad for it, considering the circus around Takashi's wedding to Curtis.

(After Takashi calls Curtis to tell him the news, which is a decision Keith absolutely refuses to weigh in on at all, and a conversation he absents himself from entirely, he receives a message from Curtis. It's short and, all things considered, remarkably gracious: "Congratulations," Curtis says into the camera, mouth tilted in a crooked smile. "I'm really happy for you—for both of you—and I know everything's going to work out for you both. It's been a long time coming and you deserve it." So that's a thing.)

They don't bother to have decorations or a wedding party, which is a source of naked disappointment from both Lance and, surprisingly, Matt, go figure. Takashi elects to wear his dress whites in honor of the occasion, but Keith chooses Galra civvies. The undersuit and tunic are more comfortable to him these days as his body adjusts to the series of treatments his medical consultants have prescribed in order to persuade his body to shift to a more Galran phenotype on a semi-permanent basis. 

Allura officiates, and so Keith takes Takashi's hands in front of the group of their friends and family, looks into his eyes, and says, "You know I'm not great at speeches or anything like that, so I'm gonna skip past all that and just say this: I've loved you for a long, long time, and I'm going to keep on loving you for as long as I live, no matter what happens." It's not much, but he means every word of it just as seriously as he would a fancier set of vows than that.

It's good enough for Takashi, anyway, whose eyes are brighter than usual. He has to clear his throat before he can speak his own vows: "Keith… you like to tell me that your life would have been a lot different if you hadn't met me, and sometimes I think it doesn't occur to you that I could say the same thing. Because it's true. I think we all know that I wouldn't even be standing here today if it weren't for you. I still don't know what I did to deserve you, but I do know that I'm going spend the rest of my life making sure you know exactly how much I love and cherish you for all the amazing things you are to me."

And now Takashi isn't the only one whose eyes are wet. Keith squeezes Takashi's hands while Allura says something about blessings and happiness and so forth that is probably very lovely and all, but all his attention is on Takashi, who is smiling back at him. 

Under Allura's patient direction, they exchange rings. The weight of a simple gold band is negligible, but Keith is acutely conscious of it and the unfamiliar pressure on his ring finger all the same. Or maybe that's all psychosomatic weight derived from how it feels to say, "I do," when Allura asks him whether he will take Takashi to love all his days, and the satisfaction of hearing Takashi say the same as Keith slides a ring onto his finger. 

Then Allura says, formally, "I now pronounce you married."

Keith doesn't bother waiting for permission to kiss his husband and goes to throw his arms around Takashi. Takashi meets him halfway, sweeping him in and pressing his lips to Keith's. Keith can hear the laughter and the applause (and some hollering, thanks for that, Lance), but it all comes second to the swell of emotion inside him, more than he can possibly contain.

"I love you so much," he says, shaping the words against Takashi's lips. 

"I love you more than anything," Takashi replies, resting his forehead against Keith's and smiling at him, and this is a moment Keith is going to treasure for the rest of his life.

It's also a short-lived moment: the ceremony concluded, everyone crowds around them with congratulations and laughter and tears. (Hunk is a crier, they all know that, but Lance is a surprise and so is Kolivan. If he didn't know how much he'd regret it in the end, Keith would give him some shit over it, but then, Krolia probably has that well in hand.)

(Besides, there's always Lance.)

Krolia catches him during the meal afterwards—calling it a reception would elevate the whole affair far above what it is, which is a party for the people he and Takashi love most—and cups his face in her hands. "I'm so happy for you, kitling," she says, for his ears only. "And I know your father is, too."

"Thanks, Mom," Keith says, hugging her tightly.

She returns the embrace fiercely, nuzzling the top of his head. It's not until Keith eases up that she laughs, soft. "I still remember you trying to tell me that it wasn't like that for Shiro," she says. "Even then I didn't believe you, just knowing him through those flashes of your memories." She smiles down at him. "It took longer than I expected, but I'm glad I was not mistaken."

Keith can't help grinning at her. "You're glad? Think how I feel."

Krolia laughs again and taps his nose. "Yes, yes, I suppose you're glad, too." Her smile turns wicked. "But I do expect I'll be right on other things, in due time. I'm sure that the kits he'll sire will be strong and magnificent, and I'm looking forward to meeting them."

Oh, God. "_Mom_," Keith complains, face hot. "_Please_." 

Krolia just laughs at him, kisses his forehead, and wanders away, hopefully to mess with Kolivan.

The one tradition that no one would be swayed by was one that Keith didn't mind at all: after they've demolished the meal and all that's left of the cake is crumbs and a few smears of icing, Takashi catches his eye and tips his head to the side—time to go? 

Keith nods to him, because yeah, it is. He loves his friends, his family, nothing like he'd grown up envying everyone around him for having when he didn't, but he also loves his space. So yeah, it's time to go.

Takashi leans over to press a quick kiss to his temple and stands. "All right, we're going to head out."

Keith rolls his eyes when that gets a few whistles and catcalls and finger guns, but it's all meant in good fun and nothing he hadn't done back when Allura and Lance had been about to embark on _their_ honeymoon, or Romelle and her wife. If Hunk ever decides to make it official with Shay or Matt settles down with his partners, he's sure he'll pay it forward. (He draws the line at Krolia. If she and Kolivan ever settle their… whatever it is between them, he's going to pretend the whole thing is purely platonic. She might not have any reservations about oversharing, but Keith was raised on Earth and, well, just, _no_.)

Their gear is already stowed on the ship, their flight off planet cleared, so all that's needed is the farewells. Krolia has a secure comm if something truly urgent happens while they're away, but otherwise they'll be completely incommunicado as far as the rest of the universe is concerned. Keith is looking forward to that a lot. He can't actually remember the last time he had actual downtime with no expectations whatsoever for his time. It was probably before Voltron.

He pilots them off the planet, Takashi in the copilot's seat keeping an eye on their heading and maintaining contact with the network of traffic controllers until they're through the planet's atmosphere and past the network of satellites and space stations and all the busy to and fro of other ships arriving or departing the planet. Once they're in the black, he turns off the comms and settles back in his seat. "Where to first?"

"You ever been to Valer IX?" Keith asks, though he knows Takashi hasn't. That one was from the Curtis years, and Keith had resented it at the time for the fact that he hadn't been able to share its deserts and canyons with Takashi. 

"Nope," Takashi says, already bringing up the coordinates in the nav system. He whistles. "Gonna be a long jump." He begins programming it anyway.

"Oh, no. Forty-five hours in hyperspace," Keith drawls. "Whatever will we do to pass the time?"

Takashi shoots him a quick look, one that's full of heat, even as he punches the go button and the ship slips into hyperspace as smoothly as a bird taking wing. "Dunno. You pack a deck of cards, maybe?"

Keith snaps his fingers. "Damn, I knew there was something I was forgetting."

"Guess we'll just have to improvise," Takashi says lightly.

Keith slides out of his seat and stretches. "Guess we will."

He's already on his feet; it gives him the advantage when Takashi sweeps a long arm out, possibly an attempt to tumble Keith into his lap. He dances out of reach and grins. "Too slow, old man."

"Too slow, huh?" Takashi grins back and goes straight over the back of his seat.

Keith laughs and retreats from the cockpit to the ship's living area, through the combination common area and galley, Takashi in hot pursuit, and withdraws into the bunk. "Oops, you've cornered me," he says as Takashi's bulk fills up the doorway. "What am I gonna do now?"

"I can think of a few things," Takashi says and comes to him.

It's beyond satisfying to slide his hands up Takashi's chest and welcome his kiss; Keith wraps his arms around Takashi's neck as Takashi grips his hips and they lean into each other, trading kisses back and forth, Keith catching Takashi's bottom lip in his teeth and sucking on it, Takashi sliding his tongue between Keith's lips, sleek and certain. 

It's perfect, and it strikes Keith that it's for keeps—officially for keeps, anyway, since as far as he's concerned it's been for keeps since the first time he'd looked at Takashi and thought, _Fuck, I love him_. He laughs against Takashi's mouth, helpless against the bubble of happiness swelling through him, honey-sweet and warm. 

Takashi rests his forehead against Keith's, smiling. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Just happy." Keith hooks a finger into the collar of the t-shirt Takashi had changed into once they'd boarded the ship. "So I've never had married sex before. Wanna show me how it goes?"

"I'd love to," Takashi says right before kissing him again.

Sometimes they like to take their time undressing each other, undoing buttons and zippers slowly, savoring the process of laying each other bare with stroking hands and kisses presses to every centimeter of skin as it's revealed. And sometimes they barely manage to get the necessary parts bared. This time they make quick, efficient work of undressing, and once they're both naked, Keith lays himself down and beckons Takashi to follow him. 

Takashi takes a moment before he does, just looking at Keith. He's smiling, soft. "Look at you," he murmurs. "Just look at you."

Forty-five hours on the jump means they have plenty of time. Keith smiles and stretches himself out, tucking an arm under his head and spreading the fingers of the other against his chest. "Guess you like what you see?" He moves his hand down, dragging his fingertips down his sternum, past his navel, and slides them over his cock, rubbing against the ridges until he's stroking them over the head. 

He's watching Takashi as closely as Takashi is watching him and sees his eyes go darker and his chest expand on the breath he takes. "Yeah," he rumbles. "Something I like very much."

He's still not moving, so Keith clasps his fingers around himself, rubbing the pads of them against the exquisitely sensitive underside of his cock. He was already starting to rouse before Takashi cornered him in their bunk; now he gets the rest of the way there in a few slow flexes of his wrist, pulse pounding as the blood rushes to his cock. It lengthens and fills in his fingers, beneath the intent heat of Takashi's gaze, the ridges becoming distinctly pronounced and the first beads of slickness starting to well up from the slit. He wraps his fingers around his cock, fisting it casually, and watches Takashi wet his lips. He's getting hard, too, just from the show, which is something like a feedback loop—he's watching Keith and getting hard, and Keith is watching him get hard and getting even more wound up. He's not complaining, but—"Wish you'd come over here and join me." Looking is good and all, but touching would be better.

"Yeah," Takashi says, "yeah, okay." He slides a knee onto the bed and kneels in the space Keith makes for him between his knees.

The next thing Keith knows is that Takashi has hoisted his hips into the air and wrapped his lips around the head of his cock.

Keith groans at the abrupt wash of sensation, hooking his knees over Takashi's shoulders and fisting both hands in the pillow. "Fuck, Takashi…" Takashi is watching him, eyes glowing as he fits his mouth around the head and first, shallowest ridge, which means that that flat of his tongue is pressed against the most sensitive place on Keith's cock when he sucks hard enough to hollow his cheeks. 

The sudden pressure and bare hint of movement strikes up Keith's spine like lightning. He shouts and jerks, vision whiting out briefly, but Takashi's grip on his hips is absolutely certain, holding him right where Takashi wants him.

Thrashing against the pillow, whining with the sensation rolling through him and the way Takashi looks, lips stretched obscenely around his cock and cheekbones cut even sharper with how firmly he's sucking on it—God, that is _exactly_ where Takashi wants him, judging by the way his eyes crinkle at the corners in what would be a smile if his mouth weren't full.

Keith tries to move anyway, to dig his shoulder blades into the mattress and buck up into Takashi's mouth, but he can't go anywhere. Can't do anything but feel the heat of Takashi's mouth and the pleasure, intense but directionless—it's there, rocketing through him, but it's not enough, not building towards an orgasm. He gasps Takashi's name, not to the point of pleading with him quite yet, but not as far from it as perhaps he'd like to be.

Takashi hums, a sleek and satisfied vocalization, and curls his tongue, rubbing the point of it against that spot.

Keith _shouts_, the cry bouncing off the hull, and the shift happens as he does. It's faster now with the hormones that amplify it, more acute than it is when he's in his ground state. He shouts again, straining against Takashi's hands as the sensory input for everything becomes so much _more_. Each crease in the sheets wrinkling under him are distinct against his back and the scent of laundry detergent mingles with the smell of sex and Takashi's cologne and lube; the light gleams on Takashi's skin and the engines thrum in his ears, harmonizing with the pleased edge of Takashi's growl. 

Takashi lets him slip out of his mouth. "Doesn't take much to get you there these days," he notes, looking far too pleased with himself for someone who's just wound Keith up and then _stopped_. Keith swears at him, but it only makes him laugh. "Easy, easy, I've got you." He shifts his grip and pushes two fingers into Keith. "God, sweetheart, look how wet you are."

Keith thumps a heel against his shoulder. "I swear to God, if you don't start fucking me right fucking _now_, I'm not gonna be held responsible for what I do." All in all, he's pretty pleased with himself for being able to deliver a coherent threat while Takashi's fingers are in him, filling him up.

"What if I've got something else in mind?" Takashi is still smiling, still too pleased with himself, and he _pulls his fingers out_. Keith can't stop the whine of protest, and Takashi hushes him. "Hang on, just a second—" He leans forward, all but folding Keith in half, and digs into the cupboard over the bed. 

"If you're not going for the lube, so help me—"

Takashi just laughs and settles back again, easing the stretch in Keith's back and thighs. He's got something in his hand, but he moves too quickly for Keith to get a good enough look to identify what it is. "I think you'll like this."

"What is it—oh!" It's a toy, apparently, which Keith figures out as Takashi rubs the blunt head of it against him, sliding it back and forth through his slick and teasing his entrance. It feels large, thick, and Keith groans at the implicit promise. "I don't remember packing anything special."

Takashi grins at him. "I know. Surprise." He presses the toy forward before Keith can answer him, sliding the tip of it into him. 

Keith groans and lets his ankles slide off Takashi's shoulders so he can splay himself open, hoping that Takashi will take that for the invitation it is. The toy _is_ thick, he can feel that much before Takashi pulls it back. "No, come on, give it to me," he growls, frustrated. "Takashi, come _on_."

"Bear with me, sweetheart," Takashi says. "I wanna make sure this is good for you." He rocks the thing back into him again, deeper, and _oh_, it's not just big—it gets bigger, stretches Keith's body harder the deeper Takashi pushes it into him. 

The harder stretch makes the breath catch in his throat; his voice is thin even in his own ears as he groans. "It's already good, c'mon, please—" He swears when Takashi draws back again, disappointed. "Come _on_—!"

Takashi rubs his free hand over his thigh. "Hang on, I've got you, I promise." He pushes the toy in again, deeper, until Keith gasps with how hard it's stretching him, arching as fresh sweat breaks out across his skin, the sharp-sweet ache of his muscles hovering on the edge of what he can bear—

The stretch eases abruptly, but not because Takashi has pulled back. The thing is still inside Keith, he can feel his body working around it, the solid sensation of having something inside him, but—how is it smaller?

It's not until Takashi begins pulling on it again and he feels the swell of it stretching him open again that it clicks for him—the toy, the dildo, whatever it is, it's ridged like his cock. He knows that the sound he utters as the thing pops free again isn't really human, but he doesn't care. "God—oh God, where did you—how did you—fuck!" The questions tumble out of him, jumbled and fragmented as Takashi sinks the thing into him again, tugs it out, and repeats the motion, working it in and out of him relentlessly. 

Smugness shouldn't look as good on Takashi as it does, but damned if he doesn't look absolutely satisfied with the way Keith is reacting. "You like it?"

"_Yes_," Keith groans, in part an answer and in part because there's another, thicker, ridge behind the first one, and it's _so good_. "Oh yes, _yes_, please…!"

Takashi hums to him, soothing, and rocks the toy back and forth steadily, working him open one ridge at a time while Keith writhes against the sheets, wetter than he's ever been and half-crazy with how good it feels. By the time Takashi has it bottomed out inside him, there are four ridges inside him and he almost aches with how full he feels. 

Takashi leaves it there and slides his hand up Keith's body, skating his palm over Keith's chest and cupping his cheek. "Still with me?" His voice rasps; his lips are red and wet from how he's been biting them. 

"Yeah, I'm—yeah." Keith turns his face into Takashi's hand and licks the taste of himself off them, purring at the way it makes Takashi's breath hitch. "Gonna fuck me now?" Really, he thinks he's been more than patient about this.

"Nah." Takashi laughs when Keith growls at him, outraged. "Gonna ride you instead."

"What—?" Keith says, and then, "Oh my _God_," when Takashi reaches around himself and groans, eyes fluttering as he arches and—that's a plug that he produces, glistening and wet, and drops on the sheets. "Tell me you didn't have that in you while we were saying our vows."

Takashi laughs and ducks his head. "Only since I changed out of my uniform," he admits. "I don't think I could've gotten through the whole thing with a plug in my ass. I'm good but I'm not _that_ good."

Okay, maybe he's a little bit disappointed by that, because the idea of Takashi all perfectly buttoned up in his dress whites, saying his vows and never letting on that he's already opened himself up just to be ready to take Keith is fucking hot. But Keith isn't complaining, because the thought of Takashi maintaining perfect composure all the way through their preflight checks and last-minute farewells is pretty hot, too.

That's all the time he gets to ruminate on Takashi prepping himself, though. Takashi has gotten a palmful of lube and wraps his hand around Keith's cock, slicking him up. Keith rocks up against his hand and nearly comes right then and there as the toy inside him shifts with the movement, pressing against all the right places and setting off fireworks inside his skull. "Fuck—_fuck_, Takashi—!" 

"Don't come yet," Takashi tells him; the note of command puts an edge on the pleasure curling through Keith. "I know you can hold off for me."

Keith groans. "If you don't stop dicking around…" But even as he says it, Takashi is moving, prowling up the bed to straddle him, thank God. Keith could weep from relief as Takashi guides himself down onto his cock, his body opening up tight and slick around him as Takashi tips his head back, groaning. He settles against Keith's hips, panting, and for a moment they're both still, trembling together. Keith has his teeth set against his lip, tasting the tang of blood as he struggles to keep it together long enough to get Takashi over the edge, too. Takashi's expression is blank with pleasure, all his attention somewhere else as he adjusts to having Keith inside him.

Keith reaches for him, sliding his hands up Takashi's thighs, feeling the minute tremors moving through his muscles. Takashi's gaze focuses on him again and he smiles. "God," he breathes. "_God_, Keith…"

"Yeah." Keith squeezes the sleek muscle under his palms. "Not sure how long I'm gonna last…" 

Takashi utters a breathless laugh. "Yeah, me either." He rises, slow, groaning as Keith's cock works his rim. Keith groans too, since every change in how Takashi's weight is distributed causes a change in how the mattress supports his body, which in turn leads to shocks of raw sensation as the toy inside him shifts too. 

Takashi keeps going, pushing himself up until Keith is barely holding him open, before driving his hips back down, hard and fast. Keith shouts, vision going white, and bucks up to meet him. He may shout again at the way the toy moves with him, starbursts of pleasure exploding across his senses. He does know he loses himself a little at that point, grips Takashi's hips and fucks up into him, driven by how tightly Takashi has wound him up and how good it feels to be filled up while Takashi's body is tight around his cock. 

Takashi moves with him, rolling his hips down to meet Keith's and groaning openly with his pleasure as he does, fragments of praise tumbling out of him every time Keith snaps his hips up. "Oh God—Keith—oh, fuck, that's so good—"

Keith is somewhere beyond words himself, but he can feel himself teetering on the edge. He reaches for Takashi's cock and grips him, stroking him hard and twisting his fingers just the way Takashi likes it best. Takashi shouts, the noise of it echoing off the bulkheads as he comes all over Keith's stomach and chest, sticky-hot.

Keith doesn't shout, but his back comes off the bed as he strains against Takashi, every part of him pulled taut with how hard he comes, the force of it wringing him out again and again. The whole universe goes away for a little while as pleasure rakes over him, relentless and uncompromising. 

When he starts to come back to himself, enough time has slipped past that Takashi has already wiped away their mess and has curled himself around Keith. Keith groans, stunned. "_God_, Takashi."

Takashi pauses in the act of smoothing his hair, then resumes the careful stroke of his fingers through the sweaty strands of it. "Guess that means you liked it?"

"You could say that, yeah," Keith agrees. It takes all the effort he can muster to turn himself in Takashi's arms; as he expected, Takashi looks particularly pleased with himself. "I'd ask you where you came up with this, but I'm afraid you'd end up telling me."

"You've got to let me have some secrets. Keep the magic alive and all that."

Keith laughs outright at that, drunk on endorphins and sheer happiness and how much he loves this ridiculous man. His husband. "The magic is thriving, trust me on that." 

Takashi just smiles at him and pulls him closer. "Good," he says, and yeah, it really is.


	5. Chapter 5

It was all well and good to speak blithely about being able to carry a child, but the actual reality of having to do so was another thing altogether.

"Adoption was on the table," Keith groans, more than a little bit petulant and absolutely unwilling to restrain himself. "It was one hundred percent on the table. _Why_ didn't I take it?"

"Ignorance lends confidence," Krolia tells him gravely as she continues to card her nails through his hair. She smiles down at him when Keith glares. "Take heart, kitling. It won't be for much longer."

"Thank fuck for that." Even with his head in Krolia's lap, he's all too conscious of the swell of his abdomen, rising like a gravid moon in his peripheral vision. Lying like this aggravates the heartburn, but the comfort of having a packmate close by outweighs the discomfort. "Why does anyone do this to themselves?"

"Evolution is a cruel mistress," Krolia intones. The twitch of her lips undercuts her gravity somewhat. Keith growls at her but only gets a tap on his nose for the effort. Then she sobers. "I will not tell you that you'll forget, afterwards, but the memories will recede. You'll have something far more important to think about."

"Gonna hope you're right about that." He's had about all he can stand of swollen ankles and food aversions and the ache in his hips and pelvis where his body is changing to accommodate his pregnancy.

"I know I am." Krolia gets her wistful thinking-about-Pop look again; he's seen a lot of it over the past several months. "My own memories were still _quite_ fresh, but I was already considering whether your father would be interested in giving you a sibling when circumstances intervened. I've always rather regretted that."

Huh. That's not something she's shared before. He's always wondered what it would have been like to have had a brother or sister—though maybe it's for the best. He saw plenty of siblings get split apart in the system and there's no way he would have handled being separated from his only surviving clan member gracefully. He'd had enough trouble handling being on his own.

Still. "Bet there's at least one timeline out there where you and Pop have a dozen kids and I spend my time asking you why you couldn't have just stopped at one."

Krolia blinks at him, startled out of her melancholy, and then laughs. "Perhaps there is," she allows. "It's no more unlikely than any of the other realities Allura has mentioned."

"I still say she and Lance cooked some of those up just to fuck with us." Lance comes up with some crazy shit sometimes and Allura only eggs him on.

Krolia smiles at the familiar complaint. "That may be, but I don't know that we'll ever be able to be sure."

"Mm." There are some benefits to his current situation, at least. The cocktail of hormones that keep him shifted to the Galra end of his phenotypic spectrum have sharpened all his senses, too, and that is definitely the thrum of Takashi's bike he hears approaching. 

Krolia might have noticed it even before Keith did; she doesn't ask why Keith begins the process of wallowing his way upright. Instead she lends a hand to help him propel himself up off his back. "He's back sooner than I'd thought he'd be."

"It's Takashi. He's got a knack for getting people to go along with things, you know that." Even the crankiest reactionary Galra factions—well, the ones that survived the war—tend to find themselves swayed by the Takashi Shirogane charm offensive, whether they like it or not.

"There is that. If Kolivan had any sense, he'd induct him straight into the Blade to keep him from getting away." Krolia reaches for Keith's hair, smoothing it back from his face and separating it into sections for a braid.

"He's still not Galra, so I don't see that happening," Keith says, amused.

"We could say he's Galra by marriage," Krolia muses as the sound of the engine cuts off outside the house. "And he is receiving regular injections of Galra genetic material. It could be a compelling argument."

It takes Keith a beat to process that—surely she hadn't just said—he twists around to stare at her, and she's wearing the bland expression that she only gets when she's secretly cracking up, which means—"Mom, _gross_!" he howls. 

And that is why Takashi comes in from his meeting to find his mother-in-law cackling as his husband tries to pummel her with a throw pillow. He stops on the threshold of the room, clearly confused. "Everything all right?"

Krolia evades another flailing blow from Keith's improvised weapon and rises. "I'm sure Keith will be happy to explain," she says serenely as she deflects the pillow Keith hurls at her. "Perhaps you could finish his hair while he does that. I'll see to dinner."

Keith sends another pillow at her retreating back, but she ducks it and laughs all the way to the kitchen.

Takashi comes to him, eyebrows still hitched up, and bends to kiss him hello. "Do I _want_ to know what that was about?"

"No, you do _not_," Keith says. "I wish _I_ didn't know what that was about."

Takashi takes his word for it and assumes Krolia's vacant seat. "All right, then." He finishes unraveling the start Krolia had made and Keith sighs as years of conditioning take over, relaxing into the touch. He'd feel guilty that having Takashi close is even better than having Krolia close, but apparently that's the way it's supposed to work. 

Takashi works quickly and quietly and flips the end of the braid over Keith's shoulder once he's finished, which is all the permission Keith needs to slump backwards. Takashi catches him and wraps his arms around him. "Hi," he says when Keith lays his head back against Takashi's shoulder. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm so ready for this part to be over," Keith tells him. "_So_ ready."

Takashi laughs and kisses his forehead, rubbing one hand over the curve of his abdomen. "Won't be too much longer. Oh, the clan chief of the Vrechik sends her good wishes, by the way. And scolded me for wasting my time with her when I should have been attending to my mate."

"People get so weird about babies," Keith says, because he's _met_ the Vrechik clan chief and knows for a fact that she has absolutely no use for anyone who can't trace their lineage straight back to the days of Old Daibazaal and that she has even _less_ use for aliens. She's the de facto head of the most conservative faction in what passes for Galran politics and Keith really doesn't know what to think about being sent her good wishes when he knows she'd be just as happy to see him pilot himself into the heart of the nearest star as not. "Speaking of, I ran that training sim for the new pilot training module and I think Admiral Banerjee was going to have a fit over the results."

"Did you break it again?" Takashi sounds sympathetic, sure, but his lips are twitching. 

"If they don't want someone who can push the programming to its limits, then they shouldn't have asked me to do the testing. And if they're gonna be weird about the quote risks to my health and the health of my unborn child unquote, then they need to hire a doctor to pull their heads out of their asses," Keith mutters.

Takashi laughs and kisses his forehead. "You're a little sturdier than most human pilots, sweetheart."

"Yeah, well, they need to stop thinking like the only pilots they're ever going to train will be human." Keith grimaces. "Letting the Garrison take the lead on the Coalition's expansion efforts wasn't a great idea."

"It was the best idea we had at the time. Now we just have to make the best of it."

Keith grunts, still not convinced that it actually had been their best choice but also disinclined to argue about it. "Were you at least able to get the Vrechik to go along with the proposal?"

"Actually, yeah." Takashi doesn't seem to quite believe what he's saying. "I think it was because she was so appalled that I was willing to stay there and argue about education reforms all afternoon instead of looking after my mate, but she did at least agree that there ought to maybe be a discussion about the idea."

"…I can't believe that we call that _progress_." Keith sighs. "Christ." He pokes his stomach. "At least you're good for something, you freeloader."

Said freeloader objects to being prodded and takes up drumming tiny fists on Keith's kidneys. Ugh.

"I see we're feeling feisty today," Takashi says, since he can feel all that thrashing too.

"Today and every day." Keith grimaces at an especially energetic kick. "You remember when I said I was scared of actually being a parent? I've changed my mind. I am _so ready_ to be a parent if it means I don't have to be pregnant any more."

"That's… is that good?" Takashi is keeping his tone neutral, like maybe he suspects a trap.

"It's something, anyway." Keith sighs when he feels Takashi turn his face and press his lips against his temple. "Thanks for putting up with me. I didn't realize this whole thing was going to mean spending months being pissed off." Hormones, fuck. As a species, the Galra make so much more sense now.

"I'm not putting up with anything," Takashi says, shaping the words against his hairline. "I love you, all of you, even you at your snarliest."

He hadn't been fishing for reassurance, exactly, but all the same, it's good to hear it. He covers Takashi's hand with his own. "Love you, too." The baby kicks, _hard_, and Keith snorts. "Yeah, yeah, you too, you little bum."

Takashi laughs and rubs his stomach. "Guess I can see why you'd be ready for this part to be over."

"You think?" The baby kicks again and Keith sighs, resigned. "All right, let me up, the gerbil bladder strikes again."

Takashi doesn't let him up so much as he helps lever Keith to his feet, but he catches Keith for another kiss before letting go. "Hang in there, it won't be much longer."

"It had better not be," Keith grumbles, but he's smiling as he heads for the bathroom at a quick waddle.


	6. Chapter 6

So, childbirth.

Keith has taken injuries that probably hurt more. He's fought for hours and hours, too, longer than it actually ends up taking him to give birth. He's certainly done things more tedious.

He's just never done anything that combined all of those things into a single experience, the slow ramp-up of contractions punctuated by intervals of nothing happening at all, with no way out but through and nothing to do but endure. It's honestly something of a relief when the intervals between contractions finally dwindled down to mere minutes and then seconds, even if the intensity increases just as sharply. 

He drops into something like a liminal mindset where he exists somewhere outside of thought—just inhabits his body and experiences the work it's trying to accomplish. There's a part of him aware that Takashi and Krolia are both right there, gripping his hands and offering constant encouragement, but he doesn't get much sense from the things they're saying to him. It matters more than he has their hands in his, their scents around him as he labors, and their arms to catch him when the final spasm releases him and he sags in relief as the Galra version of a midwife catches the baby in extremely competent hands.

It doesn't end there, of course, but the rest of it is anticlimactic in comparison. The world outside his skin begins to make sense again as he delivers the afterbirth. He's enough of himself again to comprehend the actual words Takashi is murmuring to him and register the steady rumble of Krolia's purr, anyway, two entirely separate things that are the most comforting things in the universe. 

And then, above it all, comes the thin fretful wail of a newborn who has serious misgivings about the abrupt change of its circumstances.

"Huh," Keith says, exhausted and finally able to relax. He leans into Takashi a little harder. "Guess we really did it."

"You mean you did it," Takashi says, wondering. "I'm definitely just the supporting player in this one."

Keith absolutely doesn't have it in him to argue the point. He's worn out and aching in ways he'd never imagined it was possible to ache, and he really wants a bath but can't even bring himself to imagine the amount of effort that moving, let alone getting to his feet, would require. He'll deal with it later.

More importantly, the midwife is approaching with an impossibly tiny bundle in their hands. Keith _knows_ that he's been the size of a space whale for a while, so how can something so tiny have taken up so much room? The bundle is still complaining loudly and at length as the midwife settles it against his chest. "Your kitling."

Keith looks at the violet, scrunched face of his kid for the first time and exhales. "_Oh_." He's seen his fair share of babies and, objectively speaking, this one doesn't look any different from any other (mostly) human infant he's encountered. But none of those other babies was his and Takashi's, and yeah, that really _does_ make all the difference in the world. He touches a fingertip to the infant's cheek, his own purr joining Krolia's, and it begins to settle into something more like a perfunctory grumble. "Hey, there."

Takashi's arm tightens around him; his hand dwarf's the baby's skull when he cups it. "God. _God_, Keith, _look_—" His voice trembles, breaks. "Just look."

Keith swallows hard and leans his head against Takashi's shoulder, because yeah, he is looking. "Thought I knew what we were getting into," he confesses, rubbing the pad of his finger over the impossibly delicate curve of the baby's—_their_ baby's—cheek. "Fuck. I had no idea." He doesn't have the words to encompass the swelling feeling in his chest, the wonder and terror and joy of it all. 

Krolia's chuckle is rust as she cards her nails through his hair. "No one ever really understands before it happens." She tucks a fold of blanket around her grandchild and then catches a tiny fist. "Welcome to the universe, little one."

"Yeah," Keith says, softly, tucked between two of the people he loves most and holding the third cradled against his chest. "Welcome to the universe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading along, everybody, and for the comments and kudos--I hope you all had as much fun rolling around in this fluffy bit of indulgence as I did writing it!


End file.
